Democrats don't have a Messaging problem. We don't have a leadership crisis. Democrats, we have a problem with getting over ourselves.
Do you know what Republicans do? They complain and moan at each other all year long, run primaries to push each other to the right, call each other RINOs and other less appropriate names, and we all point and laugh. Why? Because somehow we think that pointing out Republican flaws will make Republicans not like other Republicans.
The thing is, they don't need to like each other. After all that bickering and having gotten it all out of their systems, they go to the polls on Election Day and vote with a unified voice.
Every time. Even when they don't like their candidate, they consider it a moral obligation to stand in the way of the other major party candidate. All that bluster, and then they get over themselves when it matters most.
I know because I used to be one
I was once a Republican, which is part of why I understand these things about them. More importantly, though, my transition from right to left taught me that I am just a small part of an enormous movement, and while I want to make a difference from within that movement, I cannot do that if I cannot get over myself when it matters most.
After losing something, we've gotten so good at pointing out every possible anything that could have contributed to the loss.
Then we spend our time pointing out the symptoms of the disease without taking the time to name the disease.
The disease we're afraid to name
It's pride. It's our own inability to consider the fact that maybe this movement is bigger than each one of us.
This pride is why white liberals explain to black guys why the black guy got shot as if the black guy may have deserved it.
It's why male liberals tell females what they should and should not be offended by. It's why straight liberals tell the lgbtq community that they'll only be allies under certain conditions. It's why non-disabled liberals talk about respecting the dignity of people with disabilities but think they know best how to provide and preserve that dignity.
This is an internal struggle. And I don't mean internal as in a party matter where some of us need to tell the rest of us what's right or wrong. It's internal for each of us within ourselves. I have to actively work against my instincts, which are constantly telling me that I already know how to treat people who are different than me.
Do you want to know my darkest and most painful secret? When a black guy gets shot, my instincts tell me to tell other black guys what he did wrong to provoke the shooting. When a woman is offended, my instincts tell me to explain to her why she shouldn't be offended. If I disagree with something being done by the LGBTQ community, my instincts tell me that I should withhold my support from them unless they do it my way.
Until a few months ago, I would have opened the door for someone using a wheelchair without even the consideration of asking them if they would like me to. I might have told them they're an inspiration without even a thought about how it might make them feel.
Each and every time a scenario like that comes up, I have to check myself. I have to get over myself. My instincts disobey the person that I want to be because my pride tells me that I'm great just the way I am. But I'm not. I can be better. I will be better.
